


watch your head!

by adamstanheight



Category: Borderlands, Tales from the Borderlands - Fandom
Genre: Gen, Gun Violence, Minor Violence, Non-Graphic Violence, Possession, jack's being an asshole like always, someone give rhys a blanket or something
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-09
Updated: 2016-03-09
Packaged: 2018-05-25 15:37:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6200932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/adamstanheight/pseuds/adamstanheight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rhys really needs to be more careful with himself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	watch your head!

Is that Rhys?

“Hey there, gang.”

He had hit his head again, and he was only down for a minute when his arm started to twitch, then his head, and then he was right back up.

“Why are you guys lookin’ at me like I’m a freakin’ ghost?”

They can hear something else seep through into his voice, something lower and more excited. They’re not doing anything special, but it’s like he’s happy just to be standing there. 

To be alive.

Fiona is the first one to say it. “You’re not Rhys.”

He blinks. Once, twice, he’s confused. “What are you talking about?”

Sasha pipes up. “You’re not him. We can tell.” Her voice quivers a little, but it’s masked behind an incredulous tone. 

“Sasha, what are you, crazy? It’s me.” He takes a step forward and puts a hand out to reassure her, and she takes a step back. 

Both of the girls look over at Vaughn. He’s known him the longest, shouldn’t he be able to tell? What they see is a look and they’re not totally sure if it’s contemplation or fear. He sees where they’re looking, and looks with them.

“Vaughn.”

Vaughn turns his head.

“Bro, it’s me. Please tell them they’re being weird. I hit my head all the time.” He smiles a little, as if to show shame at how clumsy he is. 

Vaughn is silent, and he’s trying to take slow breaths through his nose. He opens his mouth to say something, but then makes eye contact, and loses his voice. 

Before any of them can say anything else, he starts to laugh.

“Oh man, I really had you going there, huh? God, you’re all so stupid.”

That’s not Rhys. 

Fiona gets out her pistol so fast it almost gives her whiplash. Sasha’s got hers too, and her finger is shaking over the trigger.

“But I guess the real question is what you’re gonna do about it. I mean, what, you gonna kill me?” Nobody says anything. “I’m just having some fun with Rhysie for a while, who’s it gonna hurt?” He looks at Vaughn and relaxes his voice so he sounds more like the man whose body he's taken over. “I promise I’ll take real good care of him.”

“You...you son of a bitch. Give him back.” Vaughn looks like he’s about to tackle him. He’s met with a snort.

“Or what? Huh? It’s not like you’re gonna do anything. I don’t mean to call your bluff, but to be honest, none of you have the guts.” A beat, and his eyes widen, like he’s had a good idea. “You wanna know what he’s saying?”

They share a panicked look. They don’t know if they want to know.

“I guess it’ll always be a mystery to you, huh? Maybe he’s asleep, not hearing any of this, just taking a break for a while, leaving the hard work to the adults. Or maybe, he’s screaming. Just fucking howling. Maybe he’s awake, maybe he’s not!” He looks exhilarated to be toying with them like this. “It’s a mystery.”

The three of them had talked about what to do in case this happens, in private. Without Rhys around. They would’ve asked him what he would want them to do, but the possibility that Jack was around and would overhear had made them think twice. The three look at each other again, and he’s just staring, delighted at their distress. They know what they have to do. 

“Christ, what, are you blinking out freakin’ morse code? Say some-”

Fiona points her pistol at his shoulder and prays that they were right, that the shock would be enough. 

“Sorry about this, Rhys,” and she pulls the trigger, with a regular, non-elemental bullet coming out of the barrel and going through his shoulder, and though it may not be Rhys talking, it’s still his voice that’s screaming and making sounds that cause a collectively grimace. 

After a minute he’s finally quiet, and there’s a collective sigh of temporary relief. Jack’s not dead, but he’s away, at least while they drag Rhys back to the caravan and patch him up.

They really should make him wear a helmet from now on.


End file.
